


Wardrobe Malfunction

by vjs2259



Series: Season of No Shadows [6]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No Shadows AU. Delenn and John give a dinner party. Michael sees something he shouldn't; Lise proves herself a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wardrobe Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

"Excuse me, Ambassador, Captain!" Michael Garibaldi barely paused in his headlong rush towards the docking area. 

"Trouble, Michael?" John called after him, sounding worried at the haste that had his chief of Security barreling across the crowded atrium towards the corridor. 

"No, sir!" came back a definitive shout as Michael disappeared down the long corridor that led to the welcome area for incoming passenger ships.

Delenn stared after Michael, wondering what had him careening around corners, balanced on one leg like one of the cartoon characters of which he was so fond. Her curiosity led her to linger around one of the ubiquitous pushcarts that lined the Zocalo, fingering one strand of brightly colored stones after another. John didn't seem to mind, for all that he had told her he was already late for a meeting with the representatives of the Docker's Guild. Delenn chatted brightly with John, in between listening to the shopkeeper's outlandish tales of the extreme value and secretive origins of what looked like common, if pretty, beads of glass, and watching for Michael to reappear.

Finally Michael came back around the corner. He was carrying a small valise, and accompanied by a human female, a head shorter than he was, but with much more hair. The smile on Michael's face proclaimed the woman's importance to him, but Delenn thought there was also strain showing in his posture and attitude. Turning to John, she asked, "Who is that with Mr. Garibaldi?"

"No idea," replied John absently as his link chimed for the third time, recalling him to his duties. "I'm going to have to go, Delenn."

"But have you no record of this person?" Delenn persisted. "They know one another, obviously quite well. Are they a couple? Surely their relationship is registered?"

"Registered?" John's eyes widened. "You register relationships? With your clan, or with your government?" Giving a short laugh, he asked, semi-serious, "I suppose that means we're registered somewhere?"

Delenn looked chagrined. "Not as such. Not yet." Her momentary discomfiture was overcome by curiosity again. "I don't think I've ever seen Michael so happy," she remarked. An idea occurred to her. "We should have them for dinner. I will see to it." Smiling up at John, she asked, "Are you free tonight?"

John hit the mute on his comlink one more time. "I'll make time. Let me know when you want me." He leaned over and kissed her cheek and strode off towards the turbo-lift.

Delenn watched him walk away, admiring the view. It would be hard to settle on one particular time she wanted John.

*************************************

"Lise, honey, why didn't you tell me you'd gotten an earlier flight? I could have gotten us dinner reservations, or even better, picked up some supplies. There's not a thing at my place. I was planning on shopping later today." He hefted her bag over his shoulder, and took hold of her hand. 

Lise flushed and swung a little on his arm like a child enjoying an outing. "I didn't come all this way for the food, Michael." Looking around the corridor, which was surprisingly empty, she swiftly turned and pinned Michael against the wall. Sliding her arms around his neck, and standing on tiptoe to reach, she kissed him thoroughly. 

Michael Garibaldi was pretty sure he'd never done anything to deserve this. That didn't mean he wasn't prepared to settle back and enjoy it. One hand was occupied with the luggage, but the other was available for exploration. After a few engrossing moments, he heard voices and then the approaching tread of solitary footsteps. Reluctantly, he slipped out from under Lise's encircling arms and blew out his cheeks in a futile attempt to cool himself down. 

"Hey, Zack," he said casually. "Anything going on?"

The rangy man in the grey uniform of Babylon 5 Security looked from his boss's carefully casual expression to the flushed face of the pretty woman under his arm, and shook his head. "Not a thing. Not that it matters," he added sternly. "You're off duty, as of this afternoon. For three whole days. You told me to remind you of that if you started asking about work." He cracked a smile, then bobbed his head towards Lise. "Ma'am," he said, and moved on down the corridor, whistling an off-key tune under his breath.

"What the hell is that?" Michael asked, not expecting an answer.

"'Some Enchanted Evening'," replied Lise, laughing. Then, cocking her head and examining Michael closely, she said, "You took all three days off? I'm impressed." Then, turning serious, she added, "It's a good thing, too. We need to talk."

Michael felt the smile freeze onto his face. "Of course, honey," he said smoothly, hoping his apprehension didn't leak through. "Now come on, let's get you settled in."

It was a short walk to his quarters. When Lise had called and told him she was coming for a visit, he'd offered to set her up in guest quarters. She'd told him his place would be fine. He hoped the shock hadn't shown on his face. That was the problem with real-time video links in his humble opinion. They left little room for a guy to hide his natural reactions. 

He keyed open the door with his ID card and stood aside to let Lise go in first. Michael sauntered inside after her, and set the bag on the floor between the kitchen and the bedroom. It seemed a neutral enough position. Lise had gone into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Michael sat down and nodded his acceptance of Lise's offer of a another glass. Lise sat opposite him, and rested her chin in her right hand. "So, Michael," she said.

Michael took a long drink, and set down the glass. "What's this all about, Lise? Not just a vacation then? 

"Not just a vacation," Lise stated definitively. She sighed deeply, and took his hand. "I wanted to talk to you about..."

Just then the com-system chimed. Michael jumped up and headed for the welcome interruption. "Sorry, Lise. Gotta take this, might be important." Inwardly he winced. That sounded like he thought the message was more important than what she had come to say. He already suspected that his emphasis on his work was the crux of their problems.

The com informed him that the message was from Delenn. "Play message," he said. 

"Michael, I know it is late notice, and I will understand if you have already made plans, but I would be honored if you and your companion would care to dine with me tonight. John will be in attendance as well." The Ambassador's face was bright and open, the invitation sincere "Please let me know, at your convenience, if you can come. I look forward to hearing from you."

The screen winked out, but the 'reply requested' light continued to flash. Michael looked over at Lise. "You wanna go? Delenn won't mind either way."

Lise looked steadily back at him. "Sure. Won't get you out of this conversation, you understand that, right?"

Michael nodded. "Got it." He hit the reply button and recorded their acceptance, then sent it on to Delenn. Crossing back over to the table, he sat down. Lise regarded him silently, a barely hidden smile lighting her eyes.

"We have three days," she said. Rising in one smooth motion, she came over to his side of the table and settled herself on his lap, putting her arms around his neck. She whispered in his ear, a breathy buzzing that set his nerve endings on fire. "And since we're now busy this evening, maybe we should switch up the schedule a little..."

Michael didn't get a chance to express an opinion one way or another. Then again, actions speak louder than words, and Michael Garibaldi was most definitely a man of action.

**********************************

John Sheridan approached Delenn's quarters with a com-tablet in one hand, and a sheaf of flowers wrapped in silvery paper tucked under his arm. He was signing orders on the tablet as he walked, trying to finish up enough work to allow him to forget his all-encompassing job for the evening. Reaching the door, he checked the time on the top of the tablet and realized he was quite a bit early. Delenn won't mind, he thought. She'd like the company, and maybe he could help with dinner. With Lennier off-station, she'd be preparing the meal herself. Though maybe that wasn't the best idea though, given his lack of culinary aptitude. Of course if she'd ordered in, they could talk...or he could work. Sighing, he grimaced. With any luck he could finish up this stack of reports before another pile landed on his desk. 

Pressing his thumb on the keypad, he waited for a moment, then pressed it again impatiently. She must be busy cooking, he mused, and keyed in his personal entry code. As the door swished open, he stepped inside, eyes still focused on the screen he held. How in the world did this station use so much water? He was going to have to increase the reclamation efforts or be forced to institute further rationing.

A whiff of the subtle scent that indicated Delenn was near brought his eyes up in an wholly involuntary motion. He could just see her shadow passing behind the clouded glass dividers, closed to allow privacy in the sleeping area. The light within was two dim spots, low and far away, about where the bedside lamps stood. A brighter flicker just inside the door and to the left indicated she had lit one of the candles in the room, probably the big one that stood on the low table that held her hairbrush and the polished granite tray where she laid out her jewelry. Crossing to the kitchen he laid down the flowers and the tablet on the divider, noting the carefully arranged buffet meal. The dining table was set for four, and an empty vase stood in the middle. He smiled; she had expected the flowers. The room was lit by the neon tubes that stood upright in what looked to be a vase. He was never sure whether it was a sculpture, a light fixture, or some kind of cleaning device. Starting back towards the bedroom, he started to call out and let her know he was there.

But instead he stopped, and he watched. 

She was standing at the foot of the bed, examining something laid out there, presumably her outfit for the evening. His breath caught as a rectangle of shadow detached from her outline, and she brought what must be a towel up to dry her hair. After a few languorous strokes, the cloth was carefully folded and laid across the back of a chair, and then she went over to the table to pick up another object. The candlelight flickered, revealing briefly a curve of breast and swell of hip as her arms rose and she began brush out her her hair. 

Part of John wanted to stay and watch the shadow play, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. He approached the opening to the glass doors, pushed them slightly apart, and said quietly, "Delenn, it's me."

She turned towards him, startlement apparent in the lines of her body. John closed the gap between them and reached out for the brush. "May I?" he asked. She nodded and slowly turned away from him, allowing him access to her thick curls, lying in damp waves across her bare shoulders. He lifted the brush and began to pull it through her hair in long slow strokes. As the brush came to the end of the strands, John pulled it lightly down her back, enjoying the flicker of the small muscles just under her skin as they reacted to the caress of the soft bristles. Moving her hair to one side, he began to kiss her neck, and dropped the brush to the floor as his hands encircled her waist. Her skin was cool from the shower, but flushed and rapidly warmed under his lips. 

Uttering a soft moan, Delenn turned in his embrace and met his lips with her own. John smiled into the kiss. He wouldn't be rationing water in the diplomatic quarters, not when it was put to such a good use.

*************************

Lise used the air dryer to finish drying her hair, then looked through the clothes in her carryall. What did you wear to dinner with the station's Captain and the Minbari ambassador? She pulled out the one good dress she'd packed, then set it aside. Slacks and a sweater would probably do. Michael and Garibaldi would probably be in their normal everyday uniforms; she didn't want to over-dress. Pulling the sweater over her head, she tugged her hair free of the collar and gave it a final flip into place. Leaving the bedroom she joined Michael, who was talking into his comlink. When she entered, he guiltily signed off with a "I'll check it out later, Lou. Gotta go." Lise just smiled, noting that Michael had changed into a clean jacket, but hadn't put on his dress uniform. 

"You ready?" Michael asked. He stood and gave her an appreciative look. "Don't want to be late. Delenn's a good sort, but she's a stickler for the formalities. She's got kind of a thing for punctuality."

Lise nodded, a trifle apprehensive, and took the arm Michael offered her. "Let's go," she said.

As they walked down the corridor to the turbo-lift, Lise asked, "So how long has this been going on?"

"The Captain and Delenn?" replied Michael. "Pretty much since he hit the station and she left the cocoon."

"Cocoon?" laughed Lise. "You're joking, right? I never heard that the Minbari had a larval stage!"

"You know she changed to become more human--well, it all happened inside this big round web... thing." He held one hand about chest high, apparently giving up on a more complete description. "It stood there in her quarters for weeks. Happened just before Jeff left and Sheridan got here. Anyway, when Delenn came out of it, she was the way she is now." Under his breath, Michael added, "And Sheridan never stood a chance." Lise raised one eyebrow and Michael grinned down at her. "No more than I did with you," he added, pulling her close against his side. 

Lise pressed against him, then moved away and took his hand. She smiled to herself as Michael tightened his grip, enveloping her small hand in his larger one. His face was wreathed in a foolish grin, and Lise heard a brief warbling whistle emerge from his lips. Lise leaned into his arm and remarked casually, "It won't do your image any good if you're heard singing in the corridor."

"My image?" replied Michael. "And what kind of image do you imagine I have around here?"

Lise looked up at him and squinted thoughtfully. "Competent, driven, and fair. That's how you're seen by the people you work with. And as a total hard ass by everyone else."

"Sounds about right," Michael answered with a tinge of smug self-satisfaction. Stopping at a gun-metal grey door exactly like all the others they'd passed, he added, "Here we are!"

Lise didn't have a chance to feel nervous before the door opened, Michael entered with her in tow behind him, and she was drawn into what was obviously an intimate circle of friends and co-workers. Delenn welcomed her formally but quickly started an easy conversation that soon had Lise settling into the familiarity of normal social give-and-take. Captain Sheridan and Michael started on a line of shop talk, which Delenn adroitly broke up with the announcement that the dinner was set out, and they were to help themselves. 

After much clanking of plates, all four of them settled around the low table. Lise had taken some of everything. It was the best part of traveling; experiencing new things. She was seated next to the Captain, with Michael opposite her. Lise was enjoying the conversation with Captain Sheridan; he had traveled all over settled space. As her next stop after the station was to be Centauri Prime, she was especially interested in his memories of the capital city. Delenn was chatting amiably on her right, but Michael was strangely silent. Lise darted a glance at him and was surprised to see the still look on his face that indicated severe discomfort. In between questions and answers with Sheridan, she watched Michael. His eyes were high, low, darting sideways; set everywhere but straight at Delenn. 

When Delenn rose and offered to bring in the tea, Lise quickly offered to help. Once in the kitchen Lise took a good look up and down her hostess. Oh my, she thought, and wondered what the diplomatic conventions would say about this situation. She had even less idea what a Minbari etiquette book would say. Still, it was one woman to another, and that was a sorority that might, almost, transcend species. "Delenn," she began, "I think you should know...." Here she gestured discreetly at the other woman's torso. Delenn looked down and flushed bright red.

Lise maneuvered behind Delenn, blocking the view from the dining area, and added quietly, "You can do it up here or slip off to the bathroom." She caught the fleeting look of mortification on Delenn's face before the Minbari woman turned away to fumble at the buttons on her robes. "I'm sure no one's noticed," Lise added in an attempt at comfort, even though she knew Michael had. He'd done his best not to show it, but not much escaped Michael Garibaldi.

Lise picked up a tray from the counter, carefully balancing the thin triangle of white porcelain that contained four delicate cups. Delenn picked up a tall carafe with a long slender spout. Lise admired the woman's poise. It wasn't a major incident, but it had obviously rocked Delenn, and Lise could appreciate the other woman's quick return to calm self-possession--it must come with being a diplomat.

The rest of the evening went off without incident. Lise almost giggled at the relief in Michael's face when Delenn sat back down across from him. It was evident in the relaxation of the muscles around his mouth, and the release of the death grip he'd had on his fork. After tea, Michael used his eyebrows to ask her if she was ready to go, and Lise nodded thankfully. They still had a lot to talk about; and she was tired from the long journey.

*************************

Once out in the corridor, they walked in comfortable silence together back towards the turbo-lift that would take them back to blue sector and Michael's quarters. Lise had pondered all the long trip out how to approach the subject of their future, and whether it would ever be spent together.

"You like it here," she finally remarked, trying to sound casual. It didn't work. She felt the muscles in Michael's arm tense under her hand.

"I do. It's a job I'm good at, and Sheridan's a pretty good boss. He's a little too old-school military for my taste, but adaptable. Running this crazy place takes someone who's a little crazy themselves. He's no Jeff Sinclair, but he'll do." Michael looked down at her. "What is this trip all about?"

Lise sighed. "It really is a business trip. The gallery I managed obtained a patron, a very rich patron, in the guise of William Edgars."

Michael pursed his mouth and let out a low whistle. "Of Edgars Industries? That's some angel you've landed."

Lise nodded emphatically. "He has some distinct ideas about where our business should expand, notably into alien art. Mars doesn't have much of a cultural scene, but he liked some of the displays I put together. In any case, he made his wishes clear, and indicated I should hire a good manager and take on the buying myself. I have a good eye for what appeals to high-income Marsies and Earth tourists, if I do say so myself. And I love exposing the folks back home to other cultures and little-known artists."

Michael sucked on his lower lip, thinking hard. "Mars is still home to you."

"More than Earth at this point," Lise replied. "It's only missing one thing..."

Michael waggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively, "And what would that be?"

Lise punched his arm gently. "You, of course." She walked in silence for a moment, then said, "I can make Babylon 5 my base of operations. It's near a major gate and its neutrality makes it a good staging place for interstellar business. There are more mercantile-oriented worlds, but I thought..." Here she flushed and looked straight ahead, speaking rapidly, "I thought we could try living together. When I'm here. And see how it goes. What do you think?" She stole a sideways glance. Michael was now chewing on the inside of his cheek. He didn't have that stiff stunned look though, which boded well.

"Are you suggesting you stay at my place when you're passing through?" asked Michael carefully.

"Yes," replied Lise, her nerves a-jangle. Michael was such a conservative guy; never one to look for casual relationships. Of course, it wasn't her style either. 

"Not proposing marriage, are you?" Michael added, obviously trying to keep things light.

"If that's what it takes," Lise replied bluntly. Now he looked stunned. Good, she thought, something had to break them out of this holding pattern. "You're not ready to leave this post, or EarthForce. I would like to end up back on Mars, with you. I thought I might meet you halfway, try this for a set period of time, see how we get on." Her eyes dimmed, "I miss you, Michael. I want to know if you're just something for me to remember, or something for me to look forward to."

Michael stopped in the middle of the hallway leading to his quarters and took her into his arms. Burying his face briefly in her slightly fragrant hair, he spoke into the thick tresses, "My contract's up in a couple of years, honey. I've been thinking that would be a good time to quit this gig."

Lise leaned back, and looked up at him, while staying in the circle of his embrace. "I don't want to wait. I think we need to move forward now, or let it go."

Michael nodded once, sharp and quick. "Forward it is, ma'am." He tilted his head to one side. "Am I going to have to petition for larger quarters? I'm not sure there are any short of the diplomatic suites!"

"I don't come with much baggage," laughed Lise, moving back to his side as they started to walk ahead. At his door, she sighed heavily. "You never did go grocery shopping, did you?"

Michael slid his card into the door slot, activating the opening, and looked at her. "Why? You can't be hungry--we just ate!"

Lise made a small pout. "You know what they say about Minbari food...eat it, and you're hungry half an hour later."

Michael's face creased into a grin. "I'm sure I can come up with something that'll satisfy you." Then he swiftly leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. "Care to cross the threshold with me?"

"Yes, Michael," replied Lise. Further conversation was cut off by Michael's lips as the door snicked closed behind them.

***************************************

John Sheridan was happily puttering around Delenn's kitchen, putting dishes away after they were quick-cleaned by the 'fresher and wrapping the leftover food and stowing it in the cooler. Delenn had quietly acquiesced to his offer to clean up, and she was lighting candles in preparation for her evening meditation. As he finished up, he became aware of a strained quality to her silence, and straightening the last cloth on the drying rack, he left the kitchen and walked over to where she was sitting on the couch, staring at one of several candle flames.

"Hey," he said softly, not wanting to interrupt. "Are you okay? I had a good time tonight; everyone did."

Delenn looked up, eyes wide in the dim light of the living area. "Ms. Hampton made me aware of a problem this evening. I was just debating whether it would have been best to apologize directly to my guests."

John's eyebrows raised high at this admission. "What kind of problem? I didn't notice anything."

Giving a slight embarrassed smile, Delenn gestured obscurely at the front of her dress. "My attire was not appropriate."

John looked her up and down. "You look fine to me." He didn't want to belittle her concerns. This might be a cultural misunderstanding, so the thing to do was go slow and let her explain at her own pace.

A blush washed over her cheeks, setting them afire as she said stiffly, "I dressed rapidly...after...we...that is, I did not dress with the care necessary to properly honor my guests."

A light came on in John's mind. "You mean you missed a few fasteners?" His eyes drifted down the front of her robes, thinking it was a shame he hadn't noticed at the time. Taking her hands in his, he pulled her up and into his arms. "We call that a wardrobe malfunction. Happens to the best of us. The polite thing to do is ignore it."

Delenn protested, "Is it not better to fix a mistake than to leave it alone?" She added gratefully, "I consider it a great kindness that Ms. Hampton, that is, Lise, made me aware of the error so that I could remedy it." Sighing deeply, she added, "I wish it had not happened at all. But what is done cannot be undone."

"I wouldn't say that," John contradicted. His voice was low, barely audible over the sudden sharp pounding of his heart. 

One of John Sheridan's greatest strengths was strategic planning. But he could also recognize and take advantage of unexpected opportunities. And so, with infinite care, but little delay, he raised his hands to Delenn's breast, and slowly began to undo what had been done.


End file.
